


Done It This Time

by oneatatime



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 22:22:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5945304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneatatime/pseuds/oneatatime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enough room for two people, and a droid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Done It This Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [borrowedphrases](https://archiveofourown.org/users/borrowedphrases/gifts).



Ben hunkers down into the cleft between the two rocks and looks up at the stars. He listens to himself breathe for a while, mindless and ragged, until his breathing starts to steady and the panicky whirl of his thoughts begins to subside. He drags the back of a hand across his eyes.

He’s really done it this time.

Poe's _favourite_ cup. From his dad. One of the very few mementos he had of his father. One of the very few personal items he had at all. 

Ben stifles a sob with his forearm. The rock's cold against his back, and the stars... the stars aren't as steadying without a certain person next to him. 

_Wheeble blurble bloop._

Oh, no.

No, BB8 can't find him here. He's not ready. It's not okay. Not at all - 

BB8 rounds the corner, whirring up the little path to where Ben's planted himself. Ben stares for a moment, then covers his eyes with a hand, fighting for control, but little BB8 ignores that and butts against the black fabric of his pants at his knee anyway, chirbling and chirruping frantically. Is she - is she worried? 

"I'm okay," he says at last, but it's not BB8 who answers.

There's a warm voice to his left, as Poe strides into view. "Good." 

Poe's hair blows back briefly in the breeze. It's endearing, and ridiculous, how the universe seems to arrange itself so Poe looks heroic. 

Ben's face still wants to shrivel off. BB8 was second on his list of people he couldn't handle seeing right now. Poe's the first. He's done it this time. He keeps pushing Poe harder and harder. He can't believe Poe would actually want to see him again at all. He'd expected to go back home and find all of his stuff in the spare bedroom. Or out on the street. That's still possible. Maybe Poe's here to tell him - kindly, gently, because Poe rarely loses his temper - that he's had enough.

"Poe - I'm so sorry." 

Poe goes down to a crouch, and reaches out with a deliberate, slow motion, to grip his hand. Then he lets go, but he's smiling. "I'm sad about the cup. But you were trying real hard not to, Ben. I know you were. Everything rattled, and it subsided, and you bumped against the shelf on your way out. Wasn't because you were trying to hurt me or anything." 

Ben nods slowly, wide-eyed. But it'd still been a tantrum. "I can't - I'm not as good at emotions as you are." 

"You think I always get it right?" Poe looks genuinely complimented by that. "That's good of you. I've got way more years under my belt, Ben. You haven't had the chance to learn how to deal with relatively minor stuff. I would've been frustrated about having an article rejected, too." 

BB8 butts up against him again, until he starts to stroke her, reflexively. The cool metal of her structure somehow feels a lot more soothing than the coldness of the rock against his back and under his butt. She settles down into a kind of smug bleeping purr against his thigh. 

Ben sighs, eyes on BB8. His voice is nearly inaudible. "It's not the end of the world?" 

Poe affirms, "It's not the end of the world. You need some more time alone here, or you wanna come back now?" 

Poe's hand is warm in his once more. Ben looks up at him, and tugs at him gently. "I want a little more time here," he says, stumbling over the words a little. 

It's weird, telling someone else what he wants, without it being an order, or a demand, or a wail. But Poe just nods, smiles, and eases into the cleft next to him. There isn't enough room for two people, and a droid. 

(They make it work anyway.)


End file.
